Of course, when it was all over and even in the midst of being there and doing performance # 24, I kept on having the same thought, the same reoccurring thought, which went something like "jesus christ, we really pulled this off, we are in Scotland, we are back in Edinburgh, I can see the Castle from my window and I am doing my castmate's dishes, we're back, Baby, we're back." When we were selling Shoni's t.v. and my hardback copy of "Kafka on the Shore" and Kim's juicer/hotpants/Nina Simone record/DVD of Napoleon Dynamite during our ghetto-fabulous stoop sale on Bedford Avenue in the middle of June I wasn't so sure we were going to pull it off. But, oh boy, we did and we did it, if I do say so myself, with aplomb! Plus, the cliche is true: the harder you work, the sweeter the rewards or maybe you can chalk that up to being brought up with the whole American "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" ethos.
The Fringe Festival in Edinburgh a magical experience, a kind of delicious bubble (think College) where the only thing that matters for a whole month is doing the best show that you can do, drinking the best beer you can after you do said best show, then seeing the other "best shows" that other people are doing in the Festival, and drinking more of that best beer, and then having the best hook-ups (it's a town full of actors - perfect for superficial intimacy and built-in endings!!!) and getting up the next day and doing it all over again.
And, what makes it all so wonderful is that it's this finite month so you are constantly aware that time is running away from you - you are forced to Carpe Diem whether you want to or not.
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